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Don’t kill the little birds 
That sing about your door 


Soon as the joyous spring has come 
And chilly winds are o’er. 


THE TREE-TOP BIRDS FLY-AWAY 




















































The Dinner Call 



















REALBIRDTALES 



BYCLARAJ.DENTON 

* • AUTHOR- OF • ' 

"BUSY LITTLE BIRDS" "REAL OUT-OF-DOOR 
ST0R1ES""0PEN AIR STORIES'; ETC. 



ILLUSTRATED BY SUE SEELEY 


: OA. JUST RIGHT BOOKS' 

PUBLISHED BY 

ALBERT'WHITTIS3ST &, COMPANY 
Chicago xr. s..a_ 





REAL BIRD TALES 

Copyright, 1924, by Albert Whitman & Co. 
Chicago, U. S. A. 


SEP -6 1924 


A JUST RIGHT BOOK 
PUBLISHED IN THE U. S. A. 


JUST RIGHT BOOKS 

BY 

CLARA J. DENTON 

BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 
HOMESPUN STORIES 
COZY-CORNER STORIES 
REAL OUT-OF-DOORS STORIES 
OPEN AIR STORIES 

Published by 

ALBERT WHITMAN & CO. 
Chicago, U. S. A. 



© Cl A801738 















NOTE. 

The unusual bird incidents given in the following pages 
are verified by the actual observers, the numbers appended 
thereto refer to the names which are given in the appendix. 

The incidents marked with an asterisk (*) were seen 
by the author. 


AUTHORITIES CONSULTED 


“Michigan Bird Life,” by Walter Bradford Barrows 

“Handbook of Birds of Eastern North America,” by 
Frank M. Chapman. 


“Bird Lore,” back and current numbers. 



APPENDIX 

Names of the observers of certain incidents which ap¬ 
pear in these stories: 


(1) Miss Lititia I. Foster, Cloverdale, Barry Co., Mich. 
(3) Mrs. W. S. Coleman, Grand Rapids, Mich. 


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6 

















CONTENTS 



Page 

FENCE POST TWITTERS. 9 

MEETING MORE BIRDS. 20 

IN THE SWAMP. 31 

THE BLUEBIRD’S NEWS. 44 

OTHER BIRDS .... 57 

SOME BIRD STORIES. 69 

IN THE MORNING..... 79, 

THE COW-BIRD’S STORIES. 93 

AWAY THEY FLY. 103 


7 













i 





Mr. Robin Was a Proud and Happy Husband 


8 






The Robin?s Nest 


FENCE POST TWITTERS 


T HE days went on swiftly and happily to 
the dwellers of The Orchard Home. 
Mrs. Robin watched the nest closely and 
every night saw a new egg added to the nest 


9 




10 


REAL BIRD TALES 


until four beautiful blue eggs were tucked 
away in the place prepared for them with 
so much care. Mr. Robin was a proud and 
happy husband and he spent a good many 
minutes standing on the edge of the nest 
gazing at its precious contents. 

Mrs. Robin was quite as proud and happy 
but the morning after the fourth egg was 
laid she turned her little head on one side 
as she said to her husband in her sweetest 
tones, “Now dear Robin, I have done my 
part, I’ve laid the eggs which must soon 
hatch into lively young robins so, if you’ll 
just stay here and watch the nest awhile, so 
as to be sure that no red squirrels, blue jays, 
blackbirds or other thieves can come here 
and harm our nest. 




FENCE POST TWITTERS 


11 


“I will go in search of my own breakfast, 
and perhaps when I have eaten that I’ll fly 
around a little, just to see what is going on 
in the world.” 

“When Mr. Blackbird was talking to me 
the other day he told me it was fine that I 
was a regular stay-at-home but he seemed 
to think that birds who stay at home as much 
as I do cannot be very learned so as I have 
my long time of sitting before me, I mean 
to see what a little flying around in the world 
will do for me. Perhaps when I return I’ll 
be so learned you’ll be very much pleased.” 

“All right, but do not go too far then,” 
called her husband at his loudest but she was 
out of sight before he had finished his twitter- 




12 


REAL BIRD TALES 


He looked very lonely indeed as he settled 
down on the limb near the nest. 

Perhaps he was wondering what he should 
do with those four beautiful eggs if his little 
wife should get lost and not come back at all. 
But no lonesome thoughts troubled Mrs. 
Robin, as she flew clear out of the orchard 
and down to the lawn in front of the houses 
where she had never failed to find a satisfy¬ 
ing breakfast of angle worms. When she had 
eaten all she wanted she flew to the top of the 
tall white house and looked around. 

It was still early morning and there were 
many birds flitting about, but they all seemed 
too busy to talk to her. Presently she no¬ 
ticed quite close to her, a tall tree stump and 
down its rough side was running, head first. 




FENCE POST TWITTERS 


13 



The Chickadee Flew to a Post Quite Near Mrs. Robin 

a small bird clad in black and white. He 
seemed to be picking something very good 
to eat from under the bark of the stump. 
When he had nearly reached the bottom he 
flew to a fence post quite near Mrs. Robin 
and sang out merrily, 

“ ’Tsic-a-dee-dee.” 

“Why,” exclaimed Mrs. Robin, turning 
herself around to get a better view of the 
new comer. “You must be a Chickadee!” 

“Indeed, that is just what I am, have you 
never seen a bird like me before?” 




14 


REAL BIRD TALES 


“No, I never have, you see, I am a very 
young - bird, I was only hatched late last year, 
but I have heard about you a great deal.” 

“Indeed, and what have you heard about 
me? Only good, I hope.” 

“0 no, nothing bad, only about your funny 
ways, staying all winter where it is cold and 
running down the tree trunks head first. 
Then, too, I have heard about your funny 
song that is if you can call it a song, but it 
doesn’t compare with the one my husband 
sings.” 

“Of course, I must own up to that, I know 
who you are well enough, you are a mother 
robin. How is it you can leave your family 
and sit here on the fence post so long at your 
ease?” 




FENCE POST TWITTERS 


15 


“My eggs are not hatched yet, in fact 
they are just laid. My nest is back in the 
orchard, and my good husband is watching 
the home while I take a little flight. Do you 
mind telling me where your nest is?” 

“Right over in that stump,” returned the 
Chickadee. “Do you see the little hole near 
the top? That is our front door and my mate 
sits there as happy as can be. She has under 
her warm breast seven white eggs with 
brown specks on them. When they are all 
hatched out don’t you think my mate and I 
will be kept pretty busy feeding all those 
hungry little ones?” 

“What kind of food do you have to find?” 
asked the robin. 

“0, everything that is alive that isn’t too 
big for us to catch, spiders, caterpillars, 




16 


REAL BIRD TALES 


worms, grasshoppers, daddy-long-legs, but¬ 
terflies, moths, flies, and all kinds of insect 
eggs and their larvae. Oh! I must say, we 
will be a busy pair when those seven eggs 
have changed into seven wide open mouths 
which need to be filled just so many times a 
day, ‘Tsic-a-dee-dee!’ ” 

“You seem very happy over it all any¬ 
way,” said Mrs. Robin. 

“Of course, who wouldn’t be happy when 
he is alive, has a pair of wings and knows 
just where to find food when he is hungry? 
But then I have had my troubles, only a short 
time ago a cruel boy killed my mate and 0, 
I tell you, I was sad and lonesome enough 
for a while.” 

“That was too bad,” chirped Mrs. Robin 
in her most sorry tone, “but you found an- 




FENCE POST TWITTERS 


17 


other mate, of course, since you say there 
is a nest in the stump with some eggs in it,” 

“Yes, I found another one though it took 
me some time to do so. I don’t know why it 
is, but Chickadees are not so plenty as they 
were once. My great, great grandfather, 
who died just the other day, told me that 
there used to be flocks and flocks of them 
around this creek when he was a young 
bird.” 

“0, is there a creek anywhere around 
here?” asked Mrs. Robin. 

“Yes, indeed, just a short flight across 
the meadow, in that little piece of woods. 
We love to go there, but my mate thought it 
would be better to have our nest in that tall 
stump, so we agreed that way.” 




18 


REAL BIRD TALES 


“I am sure that was very good for both of 
you,” said Mrs. Robin. 

“Good to ourselves, yes, because when she 
is pleased she’s sure to be happy and con¬ 
tented, but soon I must be looking around 
for something more for her to eat.” 

“Do you ever forget her?” 

“0 never, how could I? Because when 
I am hungry myself, I know she must be the 
same, so I fly and feed her first.” 

“You are indeed a very good husband,” 
said Mrs. Robin with a merry chirp. 

“She will not agree with you unless I 
feed her pretty soon, but before I go I should 
like very much to tell you a story about one 
of those tiny creatures they call Humming 
birds.” 




FENCE POST TWITTERS 


19 


“0, but just wait a minute, until I catch 
that white Butterfly,” said Mrs. Robin, and 
away she flew in swift chase after the dainty 
morsel. 





MEETING MORE BIRDS 



T N a moment or two, Mrs. Robin returned 
A clicking her bill happily over her quickly 
found meal. 

“Now,” she said, “I am ready to hear your 
story about the Humming bird,” and she 
settled herself in comfort on the fence post 
again. 

“Yesterday,” continued the Chickadee, “I 
went into a queer, dark place to look for some 


20 


MEETING MORE BIRDS 


21 


spiders and there was a poor little Humming 
bird caught in a big thick spider web. I 
didn’t dare go near it, because I knew I 
couldn’t help it any and might tangle it up 
more, so I flew out into the air as quickly as 
I could and lit on a tree-trunk to see what I 
could find to take the place of the spider I had 
wanted. While I was busy in this way, the 
first thing I knew there was a human quite 
near me holding that mite of a bird in its 
hand and trying to get the cobweb off its tiny 
legs and body. 

My! I thought it would never be clean 
again, and as it was lying so still in that big, 
queer hand, I thought the poor little thing 
must be scared out of its wits. After what 
seemed a long, long time the cobweb was all 




22 


REAL BIRD TALES 


wiped away, I suppose, for it flew off into the 
air and its mate, who must have been wait¬ 
ing nearby, flew to meet it. They put their 
little bills together and they whirled around 
in the air like two wheels, as if happy with 
joy. My! but I was glad for them. But now 
good bye, I hope we’ll meet again some day,” 
and away the little fellow flew, merrily re¬ 
peating his ‘Tsic-a-dee-dee’.” 

When the Chicadee was gone, Mrs. Robin 
sat for several minutes lost in deep thought. 

“How many good people there are after 
all,” she was saying to herself, “I wonder if 
all the birds everywhere find as many good 
humans as there are around this part of the 
world.” Just at that moment, a tiny Hum¬ 
ming bird flew by. “0, come back!” called 





There Was a Humming Bird Caught in a Big, Thick Spider Web 

23 





























24 


REAL BIRD TALES 


Mrs. Robin eagerly, “Come back, I want to 
talk to you.” 

The humming bird turned herself around 
and lit on a tall weed near the fence post on 
which the Robin was perched. 

“I want to know if you are the Humming 
bird who was caught in that big ugly cobweb 
yesterday?” 

“Yes,” twittered the Humming Bird, “I am 
the very same and I am still surprised to 
think that I am alive.” 

“But do tell me, weren’t you very much 
scared when the human was holding you?” 

“Scared! indeed I was. I thought at one 
time that my heart would break right 
through my body, it beat so fast and hard 
although the hand which picked me off the 
cobweb was very soft and tender.” 




MEETING MORE BIRDS 


25 


“But you are all right now?” 

“0 yes indeed I am, and I have the dearest 
little nest in a bush under a big tree down 
near the creek, it is soft and warm inside and 
there is one tiny white egg in it.” 

“How do you make your nest soft and 
warm inside?” 

“0, I line it with cobwebs, that was what 
I was after when I got caught yesterday, that 
cobweb was too big and strong for me. Then 
I take the down from the thistles and the 
dandelions too. 0,1 think it is the cosiest and 
prettiest little home that you ever saw!” 

“And does your good husband stay with 
you and help you bring up the little ones?” 

“I am sorry to say, he does not, he is a good 
attentive mate until the babies are hatched, 




26 


REAL BIRD TALES 


then he seems to lose interest in his family 
and goes off by himself, leaving me to bring 
up the children as best I can. But now, I 
hear him calling me and I must be good to 
him while I have him with me, so good bye,” 
and with a whirl she was gone. 

“Well, I wouldn’t think much of that kind 
of a husband,” said Mrs. Robin to herself, 
“and perhaps it would be a good thing for 
me to return to my husband and see what 
kind of help he wanted while I was away 
learning.” 

She turned her head toward the orchard, 
but before she spread her wings in flight she 
remembered again that she was soon to be¬ 
gin her long time of staying on the nest and 
that this was her last chance for a far flight 
away from home. 




MEETING MORE BIRDS 


27 


“I believe I will just fly down to that creek 
the Chickadee was telling me about and see 
how it looks there,” she thought. She turned 
herself about in the other direction and 
darted away. She had no trouble in finding 
the creek, for though she was only a young 
bird, when she saw the bushes all leaning 
over in one direction, she knew that the creek 
was under them. So in a very short time 
she was sitting all alone on a limb listening 
to the gentle gurgle of the stream. 

She was not left alone long, however, for 
presently she heard a lively chirping quite 
near her and a voice said, 

“How do you do, Madam Robin?” 

“How do you know my name, and who is it 
talking?” asked the Robin wonderingly. 




28 


REAL BIRD TALES 


“Everybody knows a mother Robin,” 
said the voice, “and perhaps you will know 
my name if you look at me closely.” 

“But I don’t see you!” exclaimed Mrs. 
Robin quickly as she peered around among 
the shadows. 

“Well, I will come closer,” said the voice, 
and immediately a strange bird sat on the 
limb beside her. 

“Now, tell me what I look like,” he said. 

“You look like a big, black bird,” exclaimed 
Mrs. Robin, still very much surprised. 

“So now, you have my name exactly, Black¬ 
bird, and very glad I am indeed to know you.” 

“Black-bird!” exclaimed Mrs. Robin with a 
puzzled air, “Mr. Blackbird called on me a 
few days ago, but it wasn’t you for that bird 
had beautiful red wings.” 




MEETING MORE BIRDS 


29 


“0,1 know, that is the Red-winged Black¬ 
bird, he is my first cousin. But now, tell me, 
Mrs. Robin, what do you think of this place 
for a nest? Don’t you wish you had built 
here instead of in that orchard on the hill 
so near a house where there are certain to 
be wicked cats about?” 

“How do you know where my nest is?” 
asked the little creature in surprise. 

“0, my cousin, the Redwing, with whom 
you chatted so long about the Kingfisher told 
me about it.” 

“But how do you know that I am the one? 
I should think Mother Robins would all look 
alike to you.” 

“Well, you see they don’t, you never mis¬ 
take any other Robin for your good husband, 
do you?” 




30 


REAL BIRD TALES 


“0 no!” exclaimed Mrs. Robin, “I can tell 
him anywhere.” 

“Of course, just as I can pick out my mate 
down in yonder swamp where there are hun¬ 
dreds of other Blackbirds.” 





IN THE SWAMP 



Mrs. Robin 


"11/T RS. Robin jumped around in great 
■ eagerness when the Blackbird spoke 
of the swamp. 

“O,” she said, “is there a swamp near 
here?” 

“Yes,” he said, “we think it is one of the 
most beautiful swamps you ever saw. You 


31 


32 


REAL BIRD TALES 


can find it by flying up this creek, for it rises 
in a cool bubbling spring just at the edge of 
the swamp.” 

“Is that the same swamp which lies beyond 
the orchard, where we are nesting? asked 
Mrs. Robin. 

“Yes, the very same, and you should see 
the big company of Blackbirds, when they 
are going to roost at night, they are as busy 
as a lot of humans.” 

“I know all about those roosting places, 
last year there was a Robins’ roosting place 
somewhere near where I was hatched and as 
soon as we nestlings were big enough we had 
to go off with Father Robin and roost there 
every night.” 

“I know how the Robins do late in the 
summer or early fall, but in the spring they 





You Should See the Blackbirds Going to Roost 

33 












































































































































34 


REAL BIRD TALES 


go off each pair by themselves. We Black¬ 
birds are different, we stay together through 
the hatching time. This swamp has been our 
home for many, many years. When we go 
away each fall we say over to each other that 
perhaps before we come back in the spring 
those human creatures called people will get 
to work upon our swamp and destroy it.” 

“Why, I don't see how they could!” ex¬ 
claimed Mrs. Robin. 

“But it is possible, and any one would 
know by that speech that you are a very 
young bird! There is just no end to the 
many things which people can do. I have 
heard my great grandfather tell that the 
Blackbirds once owned a beautiful swamp 
where they always spent their summers, and 




IN THE SWAMP 


35 


one year in that wonderful swamp, there was 
hatched out a beautiful, snow-white Black¬ 
bird.” 

At this the Robin chirped so loud and hard 
that she nearly fell off the limb. 

“0, you don’t expect me to believe that? 
‘A white Blackbird’ ” she said. 

“But, it was just that. The egg was laid by 
a Blackbird, and when the bird was hatched 
out it was as white as snow, it was near the 
nest where my great grandfather was 
hatched. All the birds in the swamp were as 
proud as they could be of the beautiful white 
creature. I have heard that it looked wonder¬ 
ful flying around among all the other 
Blackbirds.” 

“Did it stay white always, or did it turn 
black when it grew older?” 




36 


REAL BIRD TALES 


“I cannot tell how it might have changed, 
because one day some men came into the 
swamp, carrying those dreadful things called 
guns, and one of them shot the beautiful 
white creature and carried it away.”* 

“How dreadful!” exclaimed the Robin. 

“Yes, wasn’t it? but a stranger thing than 
that was yet to come. When this flock of 
Blackbirds came back in the spring, their 
beautiful swamp was gone, and instead of the 
great trees where they had been so happy, 
they found houses and people living in 
them.” 

“I don’t see how they could build houses 
on a swamp,” said Mrs. Robin. “I have heard 
my husband say that the ground in swamps 
is wet and soft.” 




IN THE SWAMP 37 



“So it is, but there was a Blue Jay living- 
near the swamp and, as he stays around all 
winter and likes to be near people and watch 
them, he told the Blackbirds when they came 
back in the spring just how all the changes 
had been made. He said the people dug 
great, deep ditches in the swamp and so 
drained the water out of it into the river. 







38 


REAL BIRD TALES 


Then they brought great cart loads of good 
dry ground and spread it all over what had 
been wet, black mud, so you see, the place 
was then quite as good as any other to build 
houses upon.” 

“0 yes, I see, but what did all the Black¬ 
birds do then?” 

“They hunted up the swamp where we are 
living now.” 

“I think I will fly over there and see what 
it is like,” said Mrs Robin. 

“See what it is like!” exclaimed the Black¬ 
bird, “Do you mean to tell me that you have 
never been in a swamp?” 

“Never, I know nothing about one, except 
what my husband has told me, he, you know, 
has been everywhere and has seen every¬ 
thing.” 




IN THE SWAMP 


39 


“0 yes, yes, I understand and you would 
like to keep up with him, wouldn’t you?” 

“Yes, and then there is another reason 
why I want to see the swamp.” 

She then told the story of the mother 
turkey who had chased the hawk and that 
Robin had said that she had been obliged to 
cross a big swamp either by flying or walk¬ 
ing, “and so,” she added, “I should like to see 
just what kind of a place it is.” 

“I hope you like it. You will find it is the 
most beautiful place in the world, although 
I am not so sure that you will agree with 
me in that.” 

“I know I shall not,” said Mrs. Robin, 
“because I think the orchard on the hill is 
the most beautiful place in all the world.” 
And with this remark, away she flew. 




40 


REAL BIRD TALES 


The first living creatures seen by Mrs. 
Robin as she entered the swamp, were Black¬ 
birds flying about in every direction hunting 
food. She did not stay long among them, 
but flew farther into the swamp, meeting as 
she went along, many birds whose names she 
did not know. She flew so far and so fast 
that she began to think that maybe she could 
not find her way back, when, suddenly she 
saw the waters of the lake glinting through 
the trees. 

She chirped and twittered in her joy, “Now 
I know where I am.” 

She lit on the branch of a tall tree and 
looked off on the lake, it certainly was a de¬ 
lightful picture. Its waters were as calm and 
bright as a mirror. Then she looked around 




IN THE SWAMP 


41 


on the swamp. The grass grew tall and lush, 
flowers were blooming everywhere and the 
birds were singing from bush and tree. “It 
is indeed a beautiful spot,” she said to her¬ 
self with her best notes, which nearly ap¬ 
proached a song. 

Suddenly she heard a noise quite near her 
and turning about she saw a queer, long- 
legged creature standing in the lake, directly 
beneath her, with its eyes fixed on the water. 

“I wonder what that is?” she thought, 
“surely not a bird, although those things on 
its sides look like wings.” 

While she was watching and wondering 
the queer creature suddenly plunged its beak 
into the water and brought up a good sized 
fish in its long, sharp bill. The next moment 




42 


REAL BIRD TALES 


her doubts as to the creature being a bird 
were scattered, for it spread its immense 
wings and flew across the lake to a distant 
tree where it alighted. 

Mrs. Robin was full of curiosity to know 
whether or not this immense bird nested in 
a tree like an ordinary bird, but she lacked 
the courage to fly after it and find out all 
about its home. 

“It is so big,” she said to herself, “that I 
do not dare to go near it, if it should plunge 
that long bill into me as it did into the fish 
that would be the end of me forever, so I shall 
have to fly along without knowing anything 
about this wonderful bird. Too bad too. 
Why no,”—was her next thought, “I don’t 
need to do that at all, I’ll just fly home and 




IN THE SWAMP 


43 


ask dear Robin all about it, I am sure he 
knows. Anyway it is time for me to return, 
I have been away a long time.” 

So, spreading her wings which seemed 
small to her after seeing those of the long- 
legged bird, she flew swiftly out of the 
swamp straight to the dear old orchard 
home. 





THE BLUEBIRD’S NEWS 



1% 7TR. Robin saw his wife coming when she 
was still a long way off, but he did not 
fly to meet her as was his habit when she was 
building her nest. At that time there was 
nothing to lose, but now the precious eggs 
were to be guarded. He knew she would be 





THE BLUEBIRD’S NEWS 


45 


more pleased with him for watching the eggs 
than she would if he came flying to meet her. 
So, by way of welcome he sent out to her 
his most joyous song and she came flying 
to him chirping her sweetest notes. 

“Well,” he twittered as she took her place 
on the branch as close to him as she could 
possibly get, “you seem to have flown a long 
distance. You went out of the orchard in the 
direction of the road, but you came back 
straight from the swamp. Have you been 
there?” 

“How did you know that, Robin? That’s 
exactly where I have been, and 0, I saw 
the queerest bird standing in the lake, its 
legs were so long that it stood up just like 
a human, and yet, it had wings. It doesn’t 




46 


REAL BIRD TALES 


seem fair for a bird to have wings and such 
long legs too.” 

“What color was the bird?” Asked her 
husband. 

“A bluish color and, 0 my, it had the sharp¬ 
est bill you ever saw. It gave me a shiver 
just to see it.” 

“No wonder,” said the husband, “That was 
a Blue Heron, and its bill is a cruel one. If 
you had flown after him you would have 
found his nest in a tall tree and you would 
have seen many other Heron’s nests in the 
same tree. They keep together in flocks just 
as Blackbirds do. They come back to the 
same swamp year after year I have heard.” 

“Why, that is like the Blackbirds too!” 
exclaimed the wife. 





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Said Mr. Robin, That Was a Blue Heron 

47 



















































































































































































48 


REAL BIRD TALES 


“What did you learn about Blackbirds? I 
should like to hear?” asked her husband. 

Mrs. Robin then gave a full history of 
everything that had happened during the 
long summer day. 

“I am glad that you saw and heard so much 
that was new, you are certain to become a 
very well educated bird,” said Mr. Robin. 

“But I am sorry I did not fly after the Blue 
Heron and see what its nest is like, but per¬ 
haps you can tell me.” 

“Yes, and of course you understand that 
a big bird like that must have a big nest. 
It is made of sticks and twigs, but they do not 
build their nests as closely and carefully as 
you build yours. They use the same nests 
year after year, but they clean house and 
patch all holes.” 




THE BLUEBIRD’S NEWS 


49 


“0, then it isn’t so bad,” said Mrs. Robin, 
“as it would be to build one of those big nests 
every year.” 

“But tell me, little wife, you have been 
gone a long, long time, have you had plenty 
to eat through all this summer day?” 

“0, indeed I have, food is so plentiful in 
this part of the world, that I haven’t been 
hungry a minute, and how have you fared?” 

“Very good indeed, of course I couldn’t 
go off in search of food, but it has seemed 
to come in my way every time I was hungry,” 

“That must be because you were doing 
your duty so well.” 

“I hope so. We will think so, anyway, but 
now I have some news for you. Mr. Bluebird 
stopped to chat a moment with me and the 




50 


REAL BIRD TALES 


Bluebirds in the nest in that box down near 
the house are hatched out.” 

“0 indeed, why how smart they are.” 

“Yes, but you must remember, they were 
already here when we found this’ spot. Mr. 
Bluebird told me they come here every year. 
So you see, they did not need so much time 
looking up a home as we did. Mr. Bluebird 
said, “This is the only place were there are 
no English Sparrows and that is why he and 
his wife come here. He does not like to fight 
so well as I do, so he just keeps away from 
the places where the English Sparrows live.” 

“I have often wondered why there are no 
English Sparrows around here.” 

“Mr. Bluebird says the people in the house 
down there break up their nests and drive 
them off.” 




THE BLUEBIRD’S NEWS 


51 


“That seems too bad/' said kind hearted 
Mrs. Robin, “I suppose they like to have 
homes and bring up families as well as the 
rest of us.” 

“Yes, of course, but if the people have to 
choose between Bluebirds and English Spar¬ 
rows, they take the Bluebirds and I think I 
should do that myself.” 

“So would I,” agreed Mrs. Robin, “they are 
not only prettier to look at and the Bluebird’s 
song, though not to be compared with yours, 
dear Robin, is certainly better than the 
Sparrow’s twittering.” 

“But I must tell you that the Bluebird also 
brought me some bad news.” 

“0, 0, tell me quick, what is it?” 

“The people in the house down there 
have a pet Grow, and I am sure that, even 




52 


REAL BIRD TALES 


yon, are old enough to know what a bad 
neighbor a Crow is.” 

“A pet Crow,” exclaimed Mrs. Robin, “I 
never heard of such a thing!” 

“Neither did I before, but the Bluebird says 
it is true.” 

“But what in the world can anyone want 
of a pet Crow? They are ugly, black things 
at the best. If it were a Bluebird now, or a 
Robin, it might seem worth while.” 

“The Bluebird says that if he had known 
the pet Crow was here they would not have 
come back, but they did not discover him 
until Mrs. Bluebird had already laid an egg, 
so then they thought they had better stay.” 

“Well, if he is a pet Crow,” said the hopeful 
little wife, “I dare say he doesn’t go very 
far from home.” 




THE BLUEBIRD’S NEWS 


53 


Just at this moment, Mr. Bluebird lit on a 
limb near them and they at once began to 
ask many eager questions about the pet 
Crow. 

“I will answer your last question first,” said 
the Bluebird, “Why do these people make a 
pet of an ugly Crow, I think it is because 
he does so many funny things. This morning 
a man stood at the gate eating something 
out of his own hand and at the same time 
talking to the man of the house, when all 
of sudden, down came that bad Crow, stuck 
his bill into the stuff the man was holding 
and flew off to the very top of that tall oak 
tree back of the house.” 

“Well, well,” exclaimed both Robins, “I 
hope he’ll not get around here with his 




54 


REAL BIRD TALES 


thieving, but what did the man think of 
that?” 

“0, they all laughed over it and then the 
man went into the house. I suppose they 
gave him his dinner.”* 

“Yes,” said Mr. Robin, “they could give 
the man his dinner, but if the bad Crow 
should come here and steal one of our eggs, 
or into your house and steal one of your 
babies, they couldn’t make it up to us.” 

“No,” said the Bluebird, “and I heard them 
scolding about him this morning. It seems 
he steals bright things out of the house and 
puts them in an old pump down by the barn. 
The men upset the pump and picked up a lot 
of bright things off the ground and then 
carried the pump away, so that Jack, that is 





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The Pet Crow Steals Bright Things Out of the House 

55 























































































































































56 


REAL BIRD TALES 


the Crow’s name, couldn’t have a place to 
hide things.”* And at the end of this story 
the sociable Bluebird flew away. 







OTHER BIRDS 



rri HE days which followed were much alike 
to Mrs. Robin, but they were not lack¬ 
ing in variety to her husband. He sang his 
loudest and best and fed her regularly. Al¬ 
though he did not go far from the nest, even 
when searching for food, he saw many of the 
other birds with which the orchard thronged 
and since he was a sociable fellow they had 
many merry times together. Nearly every 
day when he was digging for worms on the 
lawn in front of the house he saw the pet 


57 


58 


REAL BIRD TALES 


crow, but the friendly “Caw, Caw” met only 
silence from him. 

“He is not my kind,” said Mr. Robin, one 
morning to little Mr. Wren, whom he met 
upon the lawn, when the Crow was loudly 
calling, “Caw, Caw, Caw,” from the peak of 
the barn. “It is better to treat him coldly 
now than it would be to let him hang around 
us and find out where our nests are.” 

“He already knows where mine is,” said the 
Wren, “all the world knows that.” 

“Yes,” agreed the Robin, “but it will do him 
no good to stay around your house now, for 
he knows he is too big to get through the 
door, and I do not think he will trouble you 
much, even after your little ones are hatched 
out. He knows what will happen to him if 




OTHER BIRDS 


59 


he comes hanging around your home. Your 
attack on the Red Squirrel some time ago was 
the talk of the orchard.” 

The Wren plumed himself at these words 
of praise and then flying to the roof of his 
house, he sang a merry song while the Robin 
having pulled out of the lawn a long fat 
earthworm, hurried with all speed to feed it 
to his wife. 

As he was leaving the home tree, soon 
afterward, in search of more food he met a 
beautiful Baltimore Oriole who stopped for 
a chat and the Robin immediately gave a 
few warning notes about the pet Crow. 

“0, he can’t trouble us,” said the Oriole, 
“my wife you know makes her nest like a 
deep cup hung from a limb, and I don’t think 
he can get at the eggs. But I should think 




60 


REAL BIRD TALES 


you would fear him, since your nest is so 
shallow.” 

“Yes, but we watch it closely, and my wife 
has decided that when our little ones are 
hatched we will go farther into the middle of 
the orchard and she will build a new nest for 
the next brood. Of course that is a great deal 
of work and something which we do not 
always do, but she thinks she would rather 
build a dozen new nests than to lose even one 
precious egg.” 

“I think she would, for every one knows 
what good and careful mother birds belong 
to the Kobin family. I suppose I ought to 
add that you make good fathers too. You 
stay around home and look after your family 
better than we Orioles do, we like to have a 
good time.” 





Mrs. Oriole Makes Her Nest Like a Deep Cup Hung From the Limb 


61 


62 


REAL BIRD TALES 


“I like to have a good time too,” said the 
Robin, “but you see, we have different ideas 
as to what makes a good time. Mine comes 
when we have a nest full of little ones to care 
for.” 

At this moment they heard a faint tapping 
near them and then a gentle voice said, “Yes, 
Mr. Robin, that is true, we all have different 
ideas of a good time. To me it means tap¬ 
ping this big, round, apple-tree trunk to get 
its rich sap.” 

“Why, I always supposed you were after 
insects, when you made holes in the trees that 
way,” said the Oriole. 

“Of course we take insects when we find 
them, but our real reason for making holes 
in the trees is to get the sweet sap which is 
hidden under the bark.” 




OTHER BIRDS 


63 


“It is a great surprise to me to hear you say 
that,” said the Oriole, “for I have always 
heard that birds like you who tapped trees 
were after insects which were hidden under 
the bark.” 

“0, yes, I see, you have mixed me up with 
my first cousins the Woodpeckers.” 

“But you are a Woodpecker too, are you 
not?” 

“I suppose I am, some people call me that 
and of course, I do peck the wood, but my cor¬ 
rect name is Sapsucker. There are a great 
many Woodpeckers, the most common of 
which are the Red-headed and the Downy.” 

“That must be the little black and white 
fellow with the red band around his neck,” 
said the Robin, “I have often seen him tap¬ 
ping the trees, does he eat the sap too?” 




64 


REAL BIRD TALES 


“0 no, he eats nothing but the insects he 
finds under the bark.” 

“I have seen that big kind you speak 
about,” said the Oriole, “with the bright red 
head.” 

“Yes,” replied the Sapsucker, “he is truly a 
handsome bird and he is seen almost every¬ 
where, but he is quite unlike the rest of the 
family.” 

“In what way?” asked the Robin. 

“Well, I don’t like to tell stories about my 
relations,” said the Sapsucker, “but it is true 
that this beautiful Red-headed Woodpecker 
does sometimes eat the eggs of other birds. 
It is hard to believe it, but I have seen him 
with my own eyes steal the eggs when there 
was plenty of his favorite food around. So, 




OTHER BIRDS 


65 


he must do it out of pure mischief which is 
something that none of the rest of our family 
could ever do.” 

“I have heard before”, said the Robin, 
“that we should watch out for the Redheaded 
Woodpecker, but I never quite believed it. I 
am very glad to have talked with you, Mr. 
Sapsucker, “since I have learned something 
new. But now it is feeding time, so good bye, 
until some other day.” And with these words 
the Robin flew away. 

“That Robin is such a talkative fellow,” 
said the Oriole, “that I never get a chance to 
say much when he is around, but I would like 
to ask you some questions about yourself.” 

“Well, please do,” said the Sapsucker, “I 
am sure I am willing to tell you all I know.” 

“Do you tap only apple trees?” 




66 


REAL BIRD TALES 


“No,” said the Sapsucker, “we tap any 
trees which have sap in them, but the trees 
which we like better than others are the pine 
trees, the sugar maples, apples, pears, moun¬ 
tain ash, haw and white birch.” 

“You surprise me,” said the Oriole, “you 
seem to like a good many. I should think 
you’d kill the trees and make the humans 
hate you.” 

“Well,” said the Sapsucker, “If there were 
just one tree in the world we would soon kill 
it, but since there are so many trees, we take 
a little from each and not a great deal from 
any particular one. Then you must remem¬ 
ber, we eat many other things which people 
want to be rid of. We eat ants, beetles, cater¬ 
pillars and flies. So, after all, we are not so 
bad, even if we do, now and then, kill a tree.” 




OTHER BIRDS 


67 


Just at this moment a beautiful song burst 
upon the air and the birds looking around 
saw one much larger than the Oriole sitting 
on top of the tallest pear tree and singing 
with all his might. He was rusty brown in 
color and as he sat singing on the limb his 
long tail hung gracefully down almost touch¬ 
ing the limb below. 

‘‘My, but that is singing,” said the Downy 
Woodpecker. 

“Very good,” answered the Oriole, “I don’t 
know that I could do much better myself.” 

“Do much better yourself!” screeched the 
little Woodpecker, “I wonder if you think you 
can sing like that?” 

“What is the name of the bird?” asked the 
Oriole, quite anxious to change the subject. 




68 


REAL BIRD TALES 


“I don’t know, I wish the Robin were here, 
he could tell us I am sure,” answered the 
Woodpecker. At this moment the Robin lit 
on the limb beside the Oriole. 

“What, you two visiting here yet?” he 
asked. 





SOME BIRD STORIES 



T) EFORE either one of the birds could re- 
^ ply to Robin’s question there came 
again the notes of a sweet song from the top 
of the tall pear tree. When it ended Robin 
exclaimed: 

“A Brown Thrasher, and the first one 
I have heard this year! How I wish he would 
sing again.” 


69 


70 


REAL BIRD TALES 


But even as he spoke there was a rush of 
wings over their heads and the topmost limb 
of the tall pear-tree was empty. 

“That is the worst fault the Brown 
Thrasher has,” said the Robin, “he is the 
finest singer of the whole Thrush family, but 
his song is always too short.” 

“Then I am glad I happened to hear him 
this time,” said the Sapsucker, “but now I 
must leave your delightful company and get 
back to my nest.” 

“Is your nest anywhere around here?” 
asked the Robin. 

“Well, I don’t mind telling you both, since 
neither of you is a robber bird, that there is 
a big basswood stub, just at the edge of the 
woods, on the other side of this orchard. We 
dug a deep hole in this soft basswood, and 




SOME BIRD STORIES 


71 


there on top of the chips, my mate is sitting 
on five white eggs. 

“I am glad to know that you took a dead 
stub in which to dig your nest,” said the 
Oriole. 

“We are not always so careful, but this 
basswood stub happened to please our fancy 
and so there we are.” 

“You admit then that sometimes you do 
dig holes for your nest in good trees?” asked 
the Robin. 

“0 yes, now and then.” 

“And of course the tree dies?” 

“I suppose it does, though we don’t stay 
around long enough to find out.” 

“I am afraid then, Mr. Sapsucker,” con¬ 
tinued the Robin, “that you do more harm 
than good.” 




72 


REAL BIRD TALES 


“Perhaps we do/’ said the Sapsucker, “but 
what of it? We are here and I suppose we 
will stay. Anyway we have more sense than 
the Whip-Poor-Will and Nighthawk, who al¬ 
though they are first cousins to each other 
are different in many ways.” 

“Yes, I know that,” said the Robin, “yet I 
have heard that there are humans who really 
do not know the difference between them.” 

“I cannot see why they should ever mix 
them up!” exclaimed the Sapsucker, “of 
course they both lay their eggs flat on the 
ground without protection of any kind, but 
the Whip-poor-will lays her eggs in the 
woods, while the Nighthawk lays hers in an 
open field, sometimes on a bare rock and I 
have even heard of their being laid on the 




SOME BIRD STORIES 


73 

stony roofs of those things called houses 
where the humans stay. There was never 
such a thing as a Nighthawk laying her eggs 
under a tree or even near a bush.” 

“But you know,” said the Robin, “humans 
don’t know all these things.” 

“If they’d use their eyes more they would 
know these things.” Returned the Sap- 
sucker crossly. “There is a Whip-poor-will’s 
nest in the woods over beyond the orchard. 
The other day a man came into the woods 
with a gun, and the minute Mrs. Whip-poor- 
will saw him she jumped off the nest, flew 
near the man and pretended to be lame.” 

“What good did that do her?” asked the 
Oriole. 

“Why don’t you see? Humans are always 
anxious to get their hands on a bird, I sup- 




'74 


REAL BIRD TALES 


pose because birds have wings and they have 
none, but when the man saw the Whip-poor- 
will limping he thought he could catch her 
easily, so he followed her. She kept a little 
ahead of him making him think she was a 
poor, lame bird, until they were far from the 
nest, then she spread her wings and disap¬ 
peared. I call that a very good joke,” and at 
that Mr. Sapsucker spread his wings and left 
them without a goodbye. 

“Perhaps he thinks that is a joke too,” said 
the Oriole looking after him.” 

“Perhaps it is,” answered the Robin, but if 
he had not been in such a hurry I could have 
told him a better joke than that, but he didn’t 
even give me time to ask him to wait a 
minute.” 




SOME BIRD STORIES 


75 


“Well, tell the tale to me”, said the Oriole, 
“you see I am perfectly willing to wait any 
length of time for the sake of hearing a good 
story.” 

“You are certainly a bird of leisure, Mr. 
Oriole, I don’t see how you manage it,” was 
the Robin’s surprised remark. 

“0, it’s easy enough when you just make 
up your mind to it,” chirped the Oriole, and 
then he broke into his most rollicking song. 
The Robin was too polite to interrupt, so he 
waited patiently until the song was over. 

“I know all about that Whip-poor-will’s 
nest the Sapsucker spoke of, “began the 
Robin, and the Oriole was immediately all at¬ 
tention. “It so happens that there are lots of 
ground beetles near the Whip-poor-will’s 




76 


REAL BIRD TALES 


nest and for that reason I am around there 
several times in the day. Yesterday when 
I was near there some children were running- 
through the woods and they came bolt on the 
Whip-poor-will and her little ones. They 
stopped just a minute to look at them and 
went right on without touching the birds or 
harming them. 

When I went back there toward night the 
Whip-poor-wills, little and big, were all 
gone. While I was sitting in a tree near by, 
wondering what had become of them, back 
came those same children and some women 
with them. The children pointed to the very 
spot where the nest had been, they couldn’t 
mistake it, you know, because it was close to 
some big black stones. But the women 




SOME BIRD STORIES 


77 


shook their heads and wouldn’t believe the 
children at all. I was sorry for the children 
and wished that I could explain that the chil¬ 
dren were right, and that the mother Whip- 
poor-will had made her little ones run off to 
some other place. They were just about big 
enough to run with the mother’s help push¬ 
ing them along.”* 

“So, because you were not able to tell them 
all about it,” said the Oriole, “I suppose the 
women will always think that the children 
didn’t know what they saw with their own 
eyes.” 

“I suppose so.” 

“Well, then, that was a joke on the women, 
wasn’t it?” asked the Oriole. 




78 


REAL BIRD TALES 


“Yes,” returned the Robin, “but my wife 
will not think it much of a lark if I don’t get 
home pretty soon, so good bye for this time,” 
and the Oriole was left to himself. 






IN THE MORNING 



The Wren Was Trilling From the Top of His Dwelling 


r I tHE NEXT morning something hap- 
"*■ pened. By the time the sun was just 
peeping over the farther side of the swamp, 
Robin had sung his early song and was on 
the lawn in front of the house seeking his 
breakfast. The Wren was trilling from the 
top of his little dwelling and from the peak 


79 



80 


REAL BIRD TALES 


of the barn roof came the loud cawing - of 
Jack the pet crow. Not a human was stirring 
about the place, even the “hired man” had 
not g'one to the barn to milk the one cow. 
Music was ringing from bush and tree far 
and near, and for the time being the birds 
owned the earth. Suddenly the Wren darted 
from his post and lit near the Robin. 

“Listen to that bold, bad Crow,” he said, 
“he’s been calling that way ever since the 
first peep of dawn. I suppose he thinks if 
he keeps it up long enough some of us re¬ 
spectable and well-bred birds will answer 
him, but I am sure, I never shall though he 
calls until he drops.” 

“Ho, there he goes! “exclaimed the Robin, 
as something big and black swept over them. 






He’s Been Calling That Way Since Dawn 


81 




82 


REAL BIRD TALES 


Both birds looked up, expecting to see Jack 
sailing above their heads, but instead, there 
was another Crow and it flew straight to the 
peak of the bam and took its place beside 
Jack who at once ceased his anxious, “Caw, 
Caw!” 

“0, do you see?” said Mr. Robin, “he wasn’t 
calling to any of us at all, he was calling a 
mate.” 

“Well, she has answered him,” said the 
Wren, and both birds looked at the two 
crows, who with their bills together were 
making low sounds. 

“I wonder where she came from,” said the 
Robin, “isn’t this bad? for now instead of 
one crow to watch out for, there will be two.’ : 

The Wren was about to add his scolding to 




IN THE MORNING 


83 


that of the Robin when suddenly the two 
black things opened their wings and fled off 
toward the swamp. The Wren and the Robin 
immediately darted to the top of the highest 
tree and watched the Crows until they were 
mere specks beyond the swamp.* 

“They have gone off to build a nest,” said 
the Robin, “rather late for Crows, but I sup¬ 
pose he could not go alone.” 

“Why should they go so far away when 
there are plenty of good nesting places 
around here?” asked the Wren. 

“I have heard,” was the Robin’s answer, 
“that they like to nest in pine or other ever¬ 
green trees, and just beyond that big swamp 
there is a long stretch of evergreens, so I sup¬ 
pose that is where they have gone.” 




REAL BIRD TALES 


84 

“Well, I don’t care much why or where they 
have gone,” said the Wren, “if they only stay 
away.” 

“They will do that, for the rest of the sum¬ 
mer, you may be sure,” said the Robin wisely, 
“and after that, we don’t care.” 

“No,” said the Wren, “if they are foolish 
enough to stay here through all the cold 
weather it is nothing to us.” 

“But now for a worm,” said the Robin, “to 
carry to my wife with the good news that 
the ugly black creature of which she was so 
afraid is gone.” 

Breakfast for two being over and the good 
news having been told, Mr. Robin took his 
place near the nest and was about to begin 
one of his best solos when, from a clump of 




IN THE MORNING 


85 


bushes, on the other side of the orchard 
fence, there came a sound which startled 
Mrs. Robin so much that she nearly fell out 
of the nest. 

“0,” she exclaimed, “did you hear that 
dreadful sound, dear Robin? “I thought the 
people in the house down there did not allow 
cats around the place.” 

“Cats!” exclaimed Mr. Robin, “what do you 
mean? There are no cats any where about.” 

“But I heard one,” insisted Mrs. Robin, “lis¬ 
ten now, and you will hear it too.” 

Mr. Robin sat silent a moment and then 
came the faint mewing which had so scared 
Mrs. Robin. 

“Cheep, cheep, cheep!” called Mr. Robin, 
“0, little wife you are so funny. That was 
not a cat but another bird.” 




86 


REAL BIRD TALES 


“A bird, 0, are yon sure? I know you are 
very wise, dear Robin, but it does not seem as 
if a bird could, or would, even if he could, 
make a noise of that kind.” 

“But, it is a bird, my dear, and a harmless 
one too, of that I am certain.” 

“Well,” declared Mrs. Robin, a little un¬ 
kindly, “it’s a disgrace for a bird to make a 
noise like that, it ought to be called a Cat¬ 
bird.” 

This amused Mr. Robin so much that he 
hopped the whole length of the limb, and he 
could not answer her for several minutes, 
finally he managed to say, “What a clever 
little wife you are, for that is his true name, 
“Catbird.” 

“I must say, he is well-named,” answered 





For That Is His True Name, “ Catbird” 


87 






































88 


REAL BIRD TALES 


the wife, “but I do wish he would stop making 
that noise.” 

“Hark,” exclaimed Mr. Robin, and the next 
moment there came a burst of sweet song 
from the same direction. When the singer 
paused for a moment or two, Mrs. Robin said: 

“Now that was something like singing. 
Why Robin dear, I do believe that song was 
almost as beautiful as yours!” 

“Your praise is very fine indeed, my dear,” 
replied Robin, “but the Catbird sings far bet¬ 
ter than I do.” 

“The Catbird!” exclaimed Mrs. Robin, and 
she was silent a moment from pure astonish¬ 
ment, then she said: 41 

“0, yes, I understand, that is one of your 
jests.” 




IN THE MORNING 


89 


“Indeed darling, that is no joke, that was 
the Catbird who sang so beautifully, but 
now, listen again!” 

This time it was not a “me-ow,” nor a burst 
of music, but a queer sound as if someone 
back in the bushes were breaking up sticks. 

“You don’t mean to tell me, Robin,” said 
the puzzled wife, “that the same bird is mak¬ 
ing all those sounds?” 

“The very same, my dear.” 

“He is something like the big Mocking 
birds which we used to hear in the warm 
country where I flew a while ago with the 
rest of my family.” 

“Yes, he is often called the Mocking bird.” 

Then Mrs. Robin seemed to have a bright 
idea and she said: 




90 


REAL BIRD TALES 


“Maybe he is the same bird and comes here 
as the warm weather begins, just as we 
have.” 

“No, you would not think that if you could 
see him. He is much smaller and of a dif¬ 
ferent color, besides he does not sing so 
loudly nor in so many different ways as does 
the other Mocking birds of which you speak. 
I think there must be a pair of Catbirds nest¬ 
ing not far away, and he just happend to stop 
in the clump of willows to sing a little song. 
He may never come near us again.” 

“Well, I don’t care,” said Mrs. Robin, “of 
course his song is fine, but your song suits 
me well enough, and anyway, you never 
sound like a mean cat.” 

Just as she said these words, the mewing 
notes began again and Mrs. Robin begged 





91 




92 


REAL BIRD TALES 


her husband to sing his loudest to drown 
the cat sound. 

Mr. Robin opened his bill to grant the 
request when a loud Bang, bang! tore 
through the air and seemed to fill the world 
with fright. 





THE COW-BIRD’S STORY 



/'''I LORIOUS June! and the earth seemed 
full of birds, every tree in the orchard, 
as well as in the small piece of woods next 
to it, was thronging with young birds of all 
ages. Their shrill cries for food seemed to 
take the place of the father birds’ songs, for 
only the worst shirkers among the feathered 
fathers had time for singing. At the orchard 


93 



94 


REAL BIRD TALES 


home Mr. Robin was doing his best to silence 
the shrill clamor of his four little ones who 
had been coaxed out of the nest by his busy 
wife in order that she might clean and 
repair their home for the next brood. Every' 
where the story was the same, Feed, feed, 
feed, seemed to be the continual cry of the 
youngsters, and there was but little time for 
play and idle chat among the old birds. 

One morning, however, the Oriole, who 
always took family cares lightly, and the 
Cow-Bird, who never had any, met on the or¬ 
chard fence and as usual seemed to have 
time for idle conversation. While they were 
talking of the weather and bird affairs in 
general a man came along carrying a long 
black thing on his shoulder. The birds at 
once flew into the thickest part of the trees 




THE COW-BIRD’S STORIES 


95 


where they were well-hidden from the man’s 
eyes. When he was out of sight, the Cow- 
Bird said to the Oriole. 

“Do you know what it was that man was 
carrying?” 

“No,” said the Oriole, “I don’t, do you?” 

“Yes, it was a gun.” 

“A gun!” exclaimed the Oriole, “I have 
heard of those. They are dreadful things, 
are they not?” 

“Yes, indeed,” replied the Cow Bird, and 
many days ago when the birds were all 
busy making nests and laying eggs, or sit¬ 
ting on them, a man came along here with 
a gun and shot a Cat Bird that was singing 
in the clump of bushes right beneath us, 
don’t you remember hearing the noise of 
the gun?” 




96 


REAL BIRD TALES 


“Yes, I do remember something 1 about it.” 

“I should think you would remember it, 
there was such a terrible bang that all the 
birds around here were scared nearly to 
death. I was told that Mrs. Robin, of the 
Orchard Grove, nearly fell out of the nest 
because she thought she was shot.” 

“And what became of the Cat Bird?” 
asked the Oriole. 

“0, it was killed, the man was what is 
called a good shot. He took the bird to the 
village with him and it seems the humans 
have something they call a law about shoot¬ 
ing birds and they do some just things to the 
wicked people who kill them. So they took 
this man off somewhere and put him in a 
cage to punish him for shooting the Cat 
Bird.” 




THE COW-BIRD’S STORIES 


97 


“Well, wasn’t that fine!” said the Oriole, 
dancing about in his joy, “I have heard that 
people sometimes put birds in cages, so it 
serves them right if they are put into cages 
now and then. But who told you all of 
this?” 

“The Blue Jay, you know he stays here all 
the year around and he hears the people talk 
so much that he understands what they say.” 

“What became of the Cat Bird’s mate?” 
asked the Oriole. 

“0, I never heard about that, I suppose 
she had to bring up her little ones all alone.” 

Just at this moment Mr. Robin lit on the 
fence under the tree and as soon as the 
Oriole saw him he repeated the story he told 
the Cow Bird, who by this time had flown 
away. 




98 


REAL BIRD TALES 


“Well,” said the Robin, “I am glad to hear 
that the man was punished for his wicked¬ 
ness, and I think I’ll go home and tell my 
good wife all about it, she will be glad to 
hear of it, for she was very much scared.” 

“And how about you?” asked the Oriole. 

“Well, I must say, I was frightened too, 
although I had heard guns before, but that 
was the first one that my wife had ever 
heard in her life, and now I think I must 
hurry away from your pleasant company, as 
my young family is waiting for me to feed 
them.” 

As soon as Robin reached the home tree 
and had fed his young charges, he repeated 
the story of the Cat Bird. 

“That’s all very well,” said Mrs. Robin, 
“and I would say, the story is true, because 




THE COW-BIRD’S STORIES 


99 


the Blue Jay generally has things correct, 
but I must say, I don’t like to hear of any¬ 
thing coming from the Cow Bird.” 

“0, that is not right,” said Mr. Robin. 

“Perhaps it is, but just now, when I was 
down on the lawn looking for a worm there 
came along a little Chipping Sparrow with 
one of her own birds and a young Cow Bird 
twice as big as she was, and she was feeding 
it and taking as much care of it as if it had 
been her own bird. It kept her very busy 
too.” (1) 

“It was too bad, of course, dear wife, but 
we cannot help it.” 

“Do you think the Chipping Sparrow will 
watch her nest more closely next time?” 
asked Mrs. Robin. 




100 


REAL BIRD TALES 


“I hope so, but I think I am not so sorry 
for the Chipping Sparrow as I am for the 
mother Catbird. Think of her having to 
bring up all those babies alone, just because 
that cruel man shot his gun. If her babies 
are such eaters as ours the poor thing has 
her beak full.” 

“Yes, dear Robin, but I am so glad to 
know that people do care enough about us 
creatures of the woods to punish those who 
harm us. I always supposed that humans 
were so busy with their own affairs that they 
wouldn’t bother about us as much as that.” 

“I think we ought to be quite safe around 
here, after this,” said Mr. Robin. 

“Yes,” was the answer, “and if we have as 
good fortune with the next brood as we have 




THE CQW-uiRD’S STORIES 


101 


had with this one, we will come here to live 
next summer. And now, Robin dear, if you 
will stay here and watch the eggs which I 
have laid in the new nest I will go away for 
food this time.” 

She did not wait for her husband to con¬ 
sent or refuse, but was gone like a flash. 


























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AWAY THEY FLY 



11/|"RS. ROBIN was away so long that her 
husband began to get quite uneasy 
about her; he knew it was time to be off in 
search of food, but he dared not leave the 
nest entirely unguarded. Presently the 
youngsters lifted their heads and gave the 
shrill cry which he understood all too well. 

“0, yes, I know, you are all hungry,” he 
chirped uneasily, “but there is not a thing 
here for you. We must wait for Mother.” 

At this moment, just as he said this, Mrs. 


103 







104 


REAL BIRD TALES 


Robin flew to the babies and began to feed 
them as quickly as possible. 

Robin knew that it was his place to fly 
away at once after more food, but he was 
full of curiosity to know why his faithful lit¬ 
tle wife had been so long away. 

“I suppose I did stay longer than I ought 
to have done,” explained Mrs. Robin, in an¬ 
swer to his questions. “But you know I be¬ 
gin to sit again tomorrow, and so I flew 
around a little for exercise and I saw some¬ 
thing which I know will interest you. Of 
course you know that the Wrens have a nest 
in a box out near the barn fence. The back 
of the box is some kind of stuff through 
which you can see, so the people climb up on 
the fence to look at the little ones in the 




AWAY THEY FLY 


105 



nest. When I saw a boy standing there 
peeping into the nest I flew into a bush near 
by where I could see what was going on, and 
this is what happened: 

“When the little ones heard their mother 
coming they raised their heads and 
screamed for food, just as our little ones do, 
but when the mother Wren got her eye on the 
boy watching them, she made a funny kind 
of a chirp and down the youngsters’ heads 
dropped while the mother stood there as 
though she had never heard of such a thing 




106 


REAL BIRD TALES 


as feeding young ones. After a long time, 
the boy took the hint and went away. 

“Then the mother Wren fed the babies 
quickly. I stayed there in the trees so long 
watching that I saw this thing happen sev¬ 
eral times. The boy was determined to see 
the little ones fed and the mother was de¬ 
termined that he should not do so. It was 
queer to see how quickly the Wrens minded 
her order. Of course the mother Wren 
didn’t mind my looking at her, but she 
wouldn’t give the little ones anything until 
the boy jumped down where he couldn’t see 
into the nest.” (3) 

“Smart little mother Wren, truly,” said Mr. 
Robin, “I don’t wonder you stayed to watch 
her.” 




AWAY THEY FLY 


107 


“But please tell me, my wise husband, why 
do the humans want to pry into our bird 
homes? Why should they care what we do 
or how we do it? What would they think of 
us if we were always poking around their 
homes and trying to find out every single 
thing they do and say?” 

“My dear little wife, it is very plain that 
you don’t know much about humans. They 
like to understand things. They not only 
look into bird’s ways, but they study and puz¬ 
zle and inquire into everything under the 
sun; they are made that way. We don’t do 
so, because we have all we can do to attend 
to our own affairs.” 

“0, dear Robin, how wise and ready you 
are to explain things to me. I may some day 




108 


REAL BIRD TALES 


be as ready as you are, but I am sure I 
shall never, never, be so wise, much as I 
wish it.” 

“There is one thing sure, little wife,” said 
Robin, giving her a loving little touch with 
his bill, “you can never be wise just by wish¬ 
ing. There is much more to it than that,” 
and with this puzzling sentence he flew 
away on another worm hunt for the little 
ones. 

The following morning Mrs. Robin began 
sitting, this time on five eggs. Mr. Robin 
thus was left with the entire care of the 
young birds, to feed them and to train them 
in flying. So well did he fulfill these duties 
that by the time the second brood was 
hatched, the first brood could fly well and 




AWAY THEY FLY 


109 


feed themselves. This left Mr. Robin free 
to help in the care of the second brood of lit¬ 
tle ones. Everything went well with them 
and by the first of September they were in¬ 
deed a most beautiful family. 

* * * * 



I saw then! one chilly morning gathered 
around a mountain ash eating the berries, 
and as I counted them, just eleven, I won¬ 
dered if it wa^ their last meal in the north 
land. Mr. Robin had no song to give, he was 




110 


REAL BIRD TALES 


intent upon one thing, a good, hearty meal. 
But as I watched them fly away I hoped they 
would all return in the spring to make the 
old orchard ring with their songs and our 
eyes glad with the sight of their beauty and 
grace. 

FINIS 






Read “Busy Little Birds” for the Early Adventures of 
Mr. and Mrs. Robin and Their Bird Neighbors 
in their Orchard Home 


ill 




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